


Anything Can Be

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [53]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Romantic Gestures, Chick-Flick Moments, Episode Related, Fix-It, I always come when you call, Love Confessions, M/M, Reconciliation, Supernatural 15.03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: "I just--" Dean broke off. "I-- Can I see you?"I always come when you call.He was going to regret this."Where?" Cas asked shortly.Sequel to "Anything Can Happen, Child", a Supernatural 15.03 coda
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Resolution19 [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275806
Comments: 6
Kudos: 144





	Anything Can Be

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Anything Can Happen, Child](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248693) by [DoctorTrekLock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock). 



> Prompt: Anything Can Happen, Child ([x](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248693/))  
> Source: December is a month of remixes and sequels  
> Title: "Listen to the Mustn'ts" by Shel Silverstein
> 
> Originally posted December 11, 2019 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/189620213482/anything-can-be-december-11-2019)

His phone was ringing.

It was the first time it had rung since he'd left the bunker three days earlier. Cas had half-expected a few angry or drunken phone calls within a few hours of his departure.

He wasn't sure if he was pleasantly or unpleasantly surprised to find out that Dean apparently hadn't even really cared that he'd gone.

And now his phone was ringing. According to caller id, it was Dean.

He took it out of his pocket and set it on the picnic table in front of him. He watched it dance across the rough surface as it buzzed. Just before it was about to fall off the edge, it stopped and the screen went blank again.

Cas nudged it further onto the table with the side of his hand and went back to attempting to eat his hamburger without spilling sauce all over himself.

It didn't budge. Dean hadn't left a voicemail.

Again, Cas wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He balled up his garbage and threw it away, pocketing his phone as he returned to his car. He had just buckled his seatbelt, when he heard the strangest thing, like someone was tuning a radio and sliding up and down the dial. Just lots and lots of static with ever-changing frequencies.

He frowned at his dash, but the car wasn't on, so the radio was likewise silent. The static kept tuning until Cas could make out some words.

"-gel Castiel." Dean paused. "If he's listening, that is." It was a _prayer_. It had been so long since he had been hailed by a sibling on "angel radio," as Dean called it, that he apparently had forgotten what it was like. And now _Dean_ was calling him.

"I'm not even sure if this is still w......ng. Or if you even want to .........ve to say. But Cas--" and Dean sounded determined now "--I'm going to keep trying." Apparently his connection was still a little spotty. Metatron hadn't done his grace any favors by surgically removing it from its angel, and even with his grace currently restored, his power was waning. Who knew how long he'd be able to receive prayers at all.

Cas ignored the pang in his chest at the thought. He'd been without reception before and he'd do it again. No matter that receiving prayers was among the lowest-powered abilities an angel had. He'd be fine.

"I'm praying to the angel Castiel, if he's st............king my calls. Cas," and Dean sounded lonely, no matter the distance, "you once said you'd always come wh..................ll. Is that still true?"

The static had been longer that time, but it didn't matter. Cas could remember the day he'd said it as if it were yesterday. Half at each other's throats, both trying so desperately to sway the other to their way of thinking. _I always come when you call._ He sighed, half exasperated, half fond, which really wasn't a new combination when it came to dealing with Dean Winchester.

Silence crackled across the line for a moment before Cas heard Dean echo his unheard sigh. He could almost picture the well-worn expression on Dean's face. "I'm going to keep call.........ou, Cas. So if you can hear me, I'd app......ate it if you'd let me talk to you, man.” There was a pause before Cas heard Dean whisper “Amen.”

The line abruptly cut off, and Cas was left in a ringing silence.

He carefully didn't think about the prayer, took a deep breath, and reached for his keys. Before he had a chance to turn the key in the ignition, his phone rang again, a harsh buzzing breaking the silence and the phone vibrating against his thigh.

Cas rested his hand over the phone in his pocket, trying to decide whether or not he was going to pick up. Despite his better judgement, he sighed and fished it out just before it would have gone to voicemail.

"Hello, Dean," he said shortly. The warmth that had always accompanied the words _before_ was gone.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, Cas," he said.

He didn't say anything after that, and Cas waited for a long moment, his irritation growing before he growled, "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry," Dean blurted out. "Really sorry, Cas. Really, _really_ sorry."

Cas pursed his lips and didn't say anything.

"I just--" Dean broke off. "I-- Can I see you?"

His voice was quiet and more tentative than Cas thought he had ever heard from the other man. He closed his eyes and rubbed a thumb over the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to. Dean's accusations still rang in his ears days later. But the indifference he had assumed hadn't materialized, and Dean was asking for him. _I always come when you call._

He was going to regret this.

"Where?" he asked shortly.

Dean's exhale of relief was loud over the connection. "What state are you in?" he asked.

"Oregon," Cas lied.

"Okay, uh... There's a diner in Rock Springs, Lucinda's, if you wanted to meet there," Dean suggested, and it sounded more like a question than a statement.

"When?"

Cas could hear Dean thinking. It was nine and a half hours from Lebanon to Rock Springs. If Cas really was in Oregon, it would be a couple more than that for him. It was currently Sunday afternoon, so if they adhered to Dean's usual road trip schedule, he'd suggest Monday night, or maybe Tuesday morning if he was feeling generous or particularly tired. That would pose a slight problem, considering Cas's actual location, but it wasn't the first time--

"Wednesday at 11?" Dean asked tentatively.

Cas actually froze for a moment. That was...surprisingly...surprising. It meant something, he was sure. He just wasn't sure what it was.

"Okay," he agreed. And hung up.

He put the phone back in his coat pocket by sheer muscle memory. He stared out the front windshield for a moment, then shook himself and started the car. He had to get going. Even with Dean's unexpectedly generous timing, it was still seventeen hours to Rock Springs from Pontiac, Illinois.

\--

When Cas pulled up to Lucinda's Family-Style Diner at quarter to 11 on Wednesday, the Impala was already parked there. When he walked in, he found Dean in a booth with a carafe of coffee, an emptied mug, and small pieces of paper from a dismantled straw wrapper strewn across the table's surface. There was a portable radio squeezed on the bench between him and the wall.

Cas didn't say anything. He sat on the other side of the booth, folded his hands on the table, and stared at Dean expectantly. He may have come when Dean called, but that didn't mean he had to like it. One of the wait staff started heading towards their table, but Dean waved them off.

Dean shifted in his seat. "Hey, Cas," he said, rolling a scrap of the straw wrapper between his fingers. "You want some coffee?" he offered, gesturing to the carafe.

"Thank you," Cas replied stiffly, turning over the clean mug on his side of the table. When he picked up the carafe, he noticed that it was much lighter than he'd been expecting, and his cup served to empty it entirely. "Been here long?" he commented.

Dean shrugged. "Not too long." He paused, fidgeting with the straw wrapper before he dropped it to the table. "Uh, here," he said, grabbing the portable radio and sliding it on to the edge of the table.

It was an older model, square and silver, with two speakers on the face and a cassette player and the radio controls in the middle. Cas looked at it for a moment, then looked at Dean expectantly.

"It's a boombox," Dean explained.

Somewhere in the mass of pop culture Metatron had dumped into his brain, Cas felt a small _ping_ , but he couldn't quite make the reference surface. "What?"

"It's--" Dean looked uncomfortable. "It's from those movies...you know...with the--" he sighed. "They're chick flicks, man. And the guy has to win back the girl so he makes a big romantic gesture and stands outside her window with a boombox, and--" he broke off.

"And she takes him back," Cas finished, the reference finally clicking.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "She takes him back." He glanced at the radio before his eyes flitted to Cas. "So here I am, boombox in hand."

That was not... Cas cleared his throat and gently slid his mug in a circle, watching the black coffee swirl against the sides. "This is your big romantic gesture," he clarified.

"Yes." This, at least, seemed to be something Dean was sure of.

No matter Cas's feelings on the matter, he had been sure Dean had always seen their relationship in the plainest of terms. Friend. Family. Now, with the boombox sitting unavoidably on the table, Cas abruptly realized that maybe Dean was seeing the same depth he was, like a two-dimensional image suddenly offset to reveal a third axis.

His mouth went dry. "Go on."

"Cas," Dean started firmly. Then he stopped, as if unsure where to go now that he'd gotten permission to proceed. "I want to apologize first. For everything that I said-- For everything." He looked down at the scraps of paper he was fidgeting with again, but forcibly dragged his eyes back up to meet Cas's. "I didn't mean any of it. Not Rowena, not Mom, not... Not any of it." He paused. "I wasn't in a good place. I mean, it doesn't excuse it, but-- I wasn't in a good place. Mom had just died and--"

"Dean," Cas interrupted. "If you were 'not in a good place' every time you lost a loved one, or an apocalyptic event occurred, you would never be in a 'good place.'" He didn’t use air quotes. He’d learned that much about humanity at least.

Dean paused, appearing thrown by Cas's comment. "...Good point. Thanks, Cas." He sounded careful, not annoyed, which had been Cas's expectation.

Dean cleared his throat roughly. "I was in a worse place than usual, and I took it out on you." He looked directly at Cas. "I'm sorry."

Cas took a drink of his lukewarm coffee. "Did you mean it?"

"No!" Dean said quickly. "Not at all! I mean, yeah, Cas, things go wrong, things always go wrong, but..." He took a breath and it sounded like he was quoting. "Sometimes that's your fault. But sometimes it's my fault and sometimes it's Sam's fault. It's sort of a family motto." His smile was weak and crooked.

"And Cas," he continued quickly. "It might have been me and Sam for a while there, but it hasn't been just the two of us for years now; it's been the three of us - you and me and Sam. And we're just not a family anymore without you."

"So I'm an honorary Winchester?" Cas asked ironically.

"I'm not sure it's honorary anymore," Dean said honestly. "I think you're just a Winchester now."

Stunned, Cas blinked at him for a second before dropping his gaze back to his half-empty mug of cold coffee. As declarations go, it was more than Cas had thought he'd get. Years of being _not human enough_ and _not trusted enough_ and simply _not enough_ had driven it home that he would never be _Winchester enough_ for the brothers.

And now Dean was offering him the title of "family," as if he'd never meant to deny him it in the first place. _I'm dead to you_ rang through his head, followed by the stifling silence of Dean's reply.

"What did you come here to say?" Cas asked softly.

"Three things," Dean told him, counting off on his fingers. "First, that I'm sorry for what was said, what _I_ said. I was angry, but I didn't mean it, _any_ of it.

"Two. You're family. Full stop. No matter what else, you're a Winchester til the day you die." His expression was definitely lopsided and crooked now. "Please don't die."

He grabbed another scrap of wrapper and started twisting it. There weren't a lot of untouched pieces left. "If you don't want to see me, you don't have to," Dean admitted, and it sounded like he was pulling teeth. "Sammy misses you. We just want to know you're safe."

Cas took that in. He couldn't deny that he had missed Sam, and it would be a relief to always get the benefit of the doubt - assuming anything in his relationship with the brothers would actually change, no matter Dean's promises. It wouldn't alter much for the rest of the world; all the angels, demons, and other beings he ran into who knew of him knew that he was associated with the Winchesters. It would be nice, he reflected, to have some of the unwavering support that seemed to come with the title. John Winchester, after all, had not been a good father to his sons, but they would not stand to have anyone malign him in their hearing. That might be nice.

Dean hadn't said anything yet, so Cas prompted him. "Three?"

"Three," Dean breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, squaring his shoulders, and meeting Cas's gaze head-on. "I'm in love with you, Cas," he declared.

Cas blinked at him. He hadn't expected that. "Okay," he agreed.

Dean didn't seem to have expected that response either. "Okay?" he echoed.

"Okay," Cas confirmed.

"Does that-- I mean, do you--" Dean floundered. "Can you give me more than 'okay'?" he asked. "Like...like how you feel?"

Cas certainly could. "Dean, I was lost to heaven the moment I met you, and I turned my back on everything I believed because of you," Cas informed him dryly. "Did you need anything more explicit?"

Dean gaped at him. "Well, I--"

"Because I did tell you," Cas said shortly. "Explicitly. That I loved you. When I was dying. And you didn't say anything." He paused. "So that was awkward."

"I see you've finally gotten the hang of sarcasm," Dean said, a teasing grin sliding into place. It was hollow, though, and Cas hadn't realized how much Dean had let his walls down until one was rebuilt in front of him.

"Dean," Cas said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The wall fell as quickly as Dean had erected it. "Look, man, I'm sorry, I am," he said, the facade he had attempted cracking easily under the weight of the conversation. "And I'm going to keep screwing up, both of us know that. I just..." He dropped his gaze to the tabletop. "I'm hoping you'd rather have me, cursed or not," he said, and the phrase sounded clumsy and unpracticed in his mouth.

Cas stared at him, wide-eyed.

Dean rubbed his hands together nervously and didn't look up. "You, uh, you gave everything for me, you rebelled and fell and-- You always came when I called, Cas. Always." Dean glanced up at Cas, and Cas wasn't sure what he saw, but Dean didn't drop his eyes again. "When I said I needed you...what I meant was that I loved you, Cas. A lot."

Yesterday, Cas hadn't believed anything would have been able to break Naomi's spell quicker than Dean's impassioned voice pleading with him to stop, spilling the phrase _We're family. We need you. I need you._ He had been wrong. Now, in this moment, Cas was absolutely certain that he was free of all spells and compulsions. Dean Winchester looking him square in the eye and telling him he loved him (twice!) would have broken any enchantment on him thrice over.

"When I asked you what was real, you told me that we were," Dean continued. "And Cas? That's been true the whole time. Everything. Every time you showed up for a hunt and hung around after for burgers and milkshakes. Every time I was at the end of my rope and you bailed me out. Every time you were lost and I found you." Dean swallowed and added quieter, "Every time I was lost and you found me. That was real.

"I know I haven't been the best friend," Dean admitted, closing his eyes briefly, too long to be a blink. "Or the best brother. Or the best partner. And I'm sorry. But Cas," Dean said roughly. "There has never been a day since you raised me that I haven't thought of you." And when he looked at Cas, the falling angel could see that there was absolute truth in the hunter's eyes. "I love you," he finished simply. "I miss you."

"Dean," Cas said, and this time, he couldn't help the warmth that spread through his tone. "What did you come here to ask me?" he repeated.

"Will you come home?" Dean asked, and the note of hope in his voice sounded rusty and seldom-used.

He'd know this was coming, but Cas still hadn't realized how hard it would be to deny his petition. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said gently. "Not right now."

Dean's shoulders slumped. "Right," he said. "Sure."

"I just think we should take this slow," Cas told him quickly. "We both made enough mistakes; I want to make sure we do it right this time."

Dean perked up slightly. "Slow?" he clarified. "Not not-at-all?"

"Slow," Cas confirmed with a hint of a smile.

"Well," Dean said. "I don't think we've been on a proper, official date yet." He said 'date' with wonder, as if it were something he'd never imagined being able to use in this context, but now that he could...it was like pie, precious and meant to be shared.

"I've been told they don't count unless both parties present know it's a date," Cas informed him. Claire had told him that, reducing the count of theoretical dates he might have had with Dean Winchester to zero.

"Would you like to get lunch?" Dean asked lightly. "I'm buying."

"Yes," Cas told him firmly. "I would love to go on a date with you."

Dean's smile was like sunrise.

Later, after the burgers and shared fries and milkshakes in tall glasses, after Dean tells him he needs to take care of himself and to call if he runs into trouble, after Cas tells him to say hi to Sam on his behalf, Cas will stand slightly too close and tell Dean to call him. He tells him he'll answer if he can and call back if he can't. Dean will gladly accept Cas's offer, grateful to have the proffered connection at all.

It's no "always come when you call," but it's rebuilding, and realistic, and better in every way.


End file.
